It's No Sacrifice
by AppleCiderr
Summary: During his time away from London, Sherlock sold his soul to a powerful crossroad demon named Crowley. As long as John needed him, Sherlock will be able to protect him from anything. Then, two years after making the deal, Sherlock leaves the wedding... And runs into Crowley. But, Crowley decides Sherlock is interesting. So, instead of going to hell, he decides to keep him around.


Sherlock forced himself to ignore the bright lights and music blaring behind him, not wanting to allow himself to be pulled back towards it. He wrapped his scarf around his neck once more, breathing in the cold air outside to remove the daze of the celebration from his body. It did nothing to stop the exhaustion creeping up his limbs, or the pain in his heart.

The detective did not stop until he could not see the reception area anymore. Once the music had faded completely, he stopped. The blue eyes examined the green trees around him, along with the fog that covered the wet grass. It seemed that there was nobody around.

With that in mind, the brunette released a tired sigh, leaning against the large oak tree. He didn't know what to do. He felt lost, confused, and sad. He had been back for less than a year, and John had already moved on.

Now Mary was pregnant, John was married, and Sherlock was alone. 221B was empty, and so was Sherlock's heart. He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't jealous, but that wasn't the main thing that was bothering him.

Sherlock and John were partners, best friends… If Sherlock hadn't jumped, maybe more.. But it was too late. The world kept moving without him, people moved on, and now John didn't even need him anymore.

The sudden realization hit his heart, causing his breathing to falter, and a hand to go up to his chest. He squeezed at the fabric of his jacket, and whispered,"He doesn't… Need me anymore.."

"Right you are, Sherl," A voice cheerfully replied. Sherlock quickly turned around, and found himself face to face with a man of average height, slightly round with dark hair and light skin, wearing an expensive dark suit.

The man hummed, hands in his pockets as he walked forward. "Well, that didn't last long, did it?" He asked,"Not even three years, and I had to come back. Maybe you aren't as important to Johnny boy as you thought?"

Sherlock felt a cold sadness fill him, causing him to lower his head to stare at the thick fog. His silence caused the man to whistle, snapping his fingers. "Hello~?" He called,"Earth to Sherlock, don't you remember me?"

"I remember you, Crowley," Sherlock responded simply.

After all, how could he forget?

* * *

2 Years Ago

Russia

* * *

 _Sherlock's wide, blue eyes were filled with terror as they stared at the dead body in front of him. The knife was lodged firmly in his head, blood splattered from wounds they both sustained. The injured genius shuddered, and collapsed on the ground._

 _That had been close, too close. One of the men in Moriarty's network had seen him, he had been caught. They were going to try and re-order the hit on his friends, on John. Now, here he lied, bleeding out, with no knowledge of if John was safe or not. Either way, he was going to die, and he'd never see his best friend again._

 _At least since he was hurt, he could claim the tears were from pain._

 _The sound of echoing footsteps reached his ears, and Sherlock knew it was time. He shuddered, and felt fear for his friends. But then, he let out a deep breath, and resigned himself to what was coming. He closed his eyes and simply waited._

 _Finally, the footsteps came to a halt. "Well, well.. I've never seen a human play dead.." The accented voice said in English. He moved closer, and hissed. "Ouch, that's why You'll be dead soon anyways."_

 _Sherlock frowned, slowly opening his eyes. His blurry vision caught sight of the man, who looked nothing like the men he had been hunting. He couldn't deduce someone when in to much pain, so he simply just asked. "Who.. Are you?" He croaked._

 _"Crowley, Crossroad Demon," The man said, looking rather proud. "And I know you, you're Sherlock Holmes. You were oh-so famous, until Moriarty destroyed your reputation. Now, you are here dying in a bloody cave, all because of your feelings for a certain soldier."_

 _Sherlock coughed, blood escaping his throat. "It was for three people, not just John-" He tried, but Crowley released an amused laugh._

 _"Don't even try, I can see right through your facade," He replied,"Demons may be monsters, but we still know what feelings are."_

 _It was Sherlock's turn to laugh. "This is insane… I'm hallucinating, aren't I?" He croaked,"Demons don't exist."_

 _Crowley clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm disappointed in you, Sherlock," He declared,"Here, let me prove it to you."_

 _He snapped his fingers, and Sherlock tensed in preparation for something terrible. Instead, all the pain was gone. The brunette blinked in confusion, sitting up with little effort. His clothing was still torn, the knife he had been slashed with still had blood on it, but the wound was completely absent from his pale skin. Not even a scar._

 _"But- But that's not possible… You'd have to be-" He stopped himself,"You are a demon.. You weren't joking."_

 _Crowley's hazel eyes filled with glee. "See? Now you got it!" He exclaimed,"Now, we can get down to business!"  
_

" _Business?" Sherlock questioned._

" _I know you need something, Sherlock Holmes," He replied,"And I'm here to help you get it. I wouldn't have healed you for no reason."_

 _Sherlock thought of the many tales of folklore he had read. "You… You want to make a deal with me?" He asked._

 _"Right-O! Correct!" Crowley replied,"When I heard about your little aventures, I knew I had to come offer some help. Of course, there is a payment-"_

" _My soul," Sherlock interrupted._

 _"Correct again! You are on a roll!" Crowley exclaimed,"Of course, I won't pressure you. If you want me to, I'll just leave. It's all up to you."_

 _Sherlock knew it may have been stupid, but he could not pass this deal up. He had almost just died, and so had John if he hadn't been fast enough… They would have all died. He couldn't chance that happening again, because next time, he may not be fast enough._

 _"I want to be able to protect John Watson no matter what, until he no longer needs me," Sherlock declared, pushing himself onto his feet._

 _Crowley raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?" He asked,"No superpowers? No magic? No flying?"_

 _Sherlock shook his head. "I made my choice, that's what I want," He firmly stated,"I believe it was my choice, correct?"_

 _"It is, it is," Crowley reassured,"But you do realize that the second John no longer needs you, I take you to hell, right?"_

 _Sherlock didn't even hesitate. "I know, and I don't care," He responded,"If that happens, and John no longer needs me, then I'll have no reason to stay anyways… They can all live without me anyways.." I'm not as important as their lives… They'll all move on when it happens._

 _Crowley smiled, and held out his hand. "Do we have a deal?" He asked. As Sherlock looked back at the body one more time, he felt that he was making the right decision. He reached out, and took Crowley's hand in his own._

" _Deal."_

* * *

Crowley smiled, and placed a hand on his chest. "Aww! I'm touched that you remember me. And if you do, that means you must still remember our deal too, right?" He questioned, smirking at the detective.

Sherlock sighed, and nodded. "Yes, I do," He replied,"And I'm ready to go."

Strangely, Crowley looked really surprised. "Oh? Just like that?" He asked,"No fighting? No struggling? No genius schemes or fiddling competitions? You're just going to go down to hell, and get tortured?"

"I made a commitment, I knew what I was getting into," The detective replied,"I'm not going to fight. I'm ready to go."

The demon stared at him, looking very surprised. "Even now, you are an anomaly, Sherlock Holmes," He replied,"Humans call you selfish, and yet you've given your soul to help the one who will never love you back."

Sherlock internally winced, but he remained stagnant. Crowley crossed his arms, and then started pacing. "I don't think I can just send you into the pits of hell.. You're too interesting to forget about.." He said,"Just like the Winchesters."

After a few more paces, he gasped, and clapped his hands together. "I know! You can stay with me!" He exclaimed,"We made that deal when I was a Crossroad Demon, but I'm the King of Hell now, so I can bend the rules."

He released a sadistic laugh, and said,"Ah, I love my job." He then whipped around, and held his hand out. "Alright, Sherly! Ready to go?"

Sherlock's blue eyes looked back towards the party, feeling the sadness return. He wanted to stay, but if John didn't need him… What was the point? Not like I can change anything now.

"Yes, I am," Sherlock finally replied. Crowley smiled, and grabbed the genius' hand in his own. In an instant, the two faded away. The fog quickly flowed into where they had been standing, erasing their location from wandering eyes.

Meanwhile, the happy couple at the wedding reception continued to celebrate without a care in the world.


End file.
